


Of Saturday Mornings

by Jaina



Category: NCIS
Genre: Community: fanfic100, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-18
Updated: 2006-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaina/pseuds/Jaina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ziva wakes Abby unexpectedly on a Saturday morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Saturday Mornings

**Title:** Of Saturday Mornings  
 **Author:** Jaina  
 **Fandom:** NCIS  
 **Season/Spoilers:** Season 3/ No specific spoilers  
 **Rating:** PG-13...I think  
 **A/N:** Many thanks to [](http://selinamoonfire.livejournal.com/profile)[**selinamoonfire**](http://selinamoonfire.livejournal.com/) for the beta. *g*  
 **Disclaimer:** These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.

[My Little Damn Table](http://jaina47.livejournal.com/2949.html)

 

Avid eyes follow white sheets, hungry for the rise and fall of her body. She traces every visible curve, every line of pale skin, and every inked inch with her eyes, sealing it into memory.

"Abby." Her breath brushes against Abby's cheek. "Abigail." She speaks a little bit louder and then waits for a response.

Abby's eyelids flicker, but she doesn’t open her eyes. Ziva smiles, a little happy that Abby doesn't wake up so easily. It makes other methods necessary.

She leans over Abby, slipping a hand on the other side of her sleeping form to brace herself. Her hair teases bare skin as she bends over her. With the tip of her finger, Ziva traces the lines of the small angel tattoo on her shoulder.

She laughs softly when Abby shudders slightly in her sleep, but doesn’t wake. Ziva wonders for an instant just how long Abby had been going without sleep to be sleeping this deeply, and then she refocuses her attention on waking the woman beside her.

Ziva brushes a few strands of Abby’s black hair off of her neck and presses her lips to one of the lines of her spider tattoo, just above her pulse point. She nips the pale skin lightly with her teeth.

Ziva tilts her head to look up. Abby’s eyes are still closed, but there’s a smug grin playing over her lips. Ziva almost yelps in surprise as she feels fingers tangle in her hair. Abby tugs her hair lightly, not quite painfully, and then uses her grip to pull Ziva down to her for a kiss.

  
_Abby is definitely awake now_ , Ziva thinks for an instant before she looses herself in the kiss. Abby’s lips are pressing hard against hers, and her tongue teases Ziva’s bottom lip. Ziva deepens the kiss, letting Abby in. She lets more of her weight fall on top of Abby, her knee settling in between Abby’s legs.

She vaguely notes one of Abby’s hands as it slips up under her shirt and comes to rest just above the curve of her hip. The next moment, Abby is rolling over, pinning Ziva beneath her when their positions reverse.

Abby’s breathing is just noticeably faster than normal. She rests her hands on each of Ziva’s shoulders as she straddles her stomach. “You woke me up,” she says with an accusing pout.

Ziva smirks at her. “Yes.”

Abby looks frustrated at Ziva’s monosyllabic non-response. She pokes Ziva in the side. “Why?”

Ziva captures Abby’s finger and laughs, “Because I could.” She kisses the offending finger lightly and then bites it before she lets go.

Abby looks indignant. “Not fair.”

“Don’t poke me then,” Ziva says reasonably, using Abby’s brief distraction to move her arm. She lays her hand on Abby’s bare thigh, her thumb skimming over the smooth skin of her inner thigh.

Abby’s breath hitches for a moment at the contact and then retaliates. “If you’re going to be waking me up at this early on a Saturday morning-”

“Eleven o’clock,” Ziva interjects with bemusement.

“-then you’d damn well better not be wearing this many clothes,” Abby concludes, ignoring her statement. She raises herself up off of Ziva’s stomach for a moment and then tugs Ziva’s shirt up, forcing Ziva to raise her arms to help her slip it off.

Abby’s fingers glide over Ziva’s ribs for an instant, eliciting a startled puff of breath from Ziva as she hits a ticklish spot. She leans over Ziva with torturous slowness; her lips are mere inches from Ziva’s when she turns her head and kisses her cheek. She pulls back quickly to see Ziva staring at her, looking humorously disgruntled.

Satisfied with her small revenge, Abby leans back and considers something. Or at least attempts to consider something as Ziva’s hands are doing very distracting things to her body – like the way Ziva’s fingers are brushing up against her breasts teasingly.

“What are you…doing here,” Abby asks, as she leans into Ziva’s touch.

“Gibbs needs you in the lab,” Ziva responds calmly, “You weren’t answering your phone.”

Abby almost jumps back. “What?” She is horrified. “You know how Gibbs gets if someone comes in late.” She’s almost scrambled off of Ziva and out of her coffin when Ziva catches her wrist.

“Abby.” She waits until she has her attention. “There is no case.”

“What?” If anything Abby’s voice is more furious now.

“It was a joke, yes?”

Abby still doesn’t relent. “Don’t joke about that. It’s not funny.” Her expression is still sour.

Ziva blinks. For a moment, Abby isn’t sure what she’ll do or say. They’re still so new at this. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. She grabs onto the edges of the oversize coffin and pulls her legs up towards her chest, out from underneath Abby. “I’ll go.”

She starts to suite her actions to her words when Abby reaches out. “Wait…Ziva. Why were you here? I didn’t think we had any plans until tonight.”

Some emotion that Abby can’t quite determine crosses Ziva’s face for a moment and then is gone. She shakes her head, and then meets Abby’s eyes.

“I wanted to see you, Abigail. I got here and you just looked so beautiful. I just had to touch you to make sure that this was real.” She shakes her head again. “I’ll just go.”

Ziva is pulling on her shirt, when Abby reaches out a hand to stop her.

“What are you doing?”

“Gibbs won’t be happy if I’m arrested for public nudity on the way home, Abby,” Ziva says blankly.

“True, but Tony would be.”

Ziva shoots a look at her.

“Right, sorry,” Abby mutters. “I got distracted again.” She refocuses her attention on Ziva. “Don’t go.”

“What?” Ziva asks in surprise.

“Don’t go,” Abby repeats. “I want you to stay,” she elaborates. “Okay, so maybe I wasn’t very happy with your little joke, but I did like where things were going before that.”

Ziva looks surprised for an instant and then smug. “Really?” She steps closer to Abby again. “And you haven’t even seen my best moves yet.”

Abby grins. “I look forward to it,” she says just before Ziva is kissing her and pressing her back down onto of the rumpled sheets.


End file.
